


good boys should get rewards

by ArtlessTanager



Series: short fics inspired by two flints [1]
Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Developing Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtlessTanager/pseuds/ArtlessTanager
Summary: Alex still has doubts about whether Greg is the right person. Greg proves him wrong.Inspired by sabinelagrande's and dizmo's 'two flints'.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Series: short fics inspired by two flints [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043796
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	good boys should get rewards

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [every sinner has a future](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705963) by [sabinelagrande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande). 



> Read 'two flints' recently and was sucked in. Loved it so much that I wanted to invent some backstory.  
> (Purely of my own making, and is not part of the original series. The setting is derived from sabinelagrande's and dizmo's 'two flints'. Placed after 'every sinner has a future'.)  
> Genuine thanks to the original authors for coming up with this brilliant AU -- (and for letting me post this).

They had been meeting nightly at the back of a pub for the last couple weeks. Enough that they were now fairly comfortable with each other. Not enough for Alex to completely feel like he had made the right decision. He doubted he would ever fully trust Greg (for some things at least), but that’s just how he was. Once, he had thought himself too paranoid but now, he had lived too long with eyes behind his head to be bothered by his constant wary vigilance. As long as he wasn’t Macbething himself.

Tonight was one more test of the many tests he had given Greg thus far. Greg had just received his tailored suit and was changing behind some boxes while Alex leaned back cross-legged on a chair. A small knot formed itself in Alex’s stomach when he saw the tall man emerge. He promptly ignored it. Davies, black suit, black shirt, black waistcoat, black shoes, black cravat, looked exactly the part of Taskmaster Alex had envisioned. The kind of man you don’t say no to.

“Much better,” Alex said, appraising what he saw before him.

Greg grunted. “I hope so, it cost me a small fortune.”

Alex mentally hesitated before moving on, making sure all Greg could see was his calculating eyes. This right now was the turning point. It would change their dynamic if it went well.

“Shall we?” Alex gestured to the slightly bigger chair next to him.

The bigger man gave him a quizzical look but didn’t complain. After all, he was still incredibly aware that the smaller one could kill him. 

“From now on, you’re going to start treating me like your assistant, not the other way around.”

“Right.” Greg was a little nervous about that part. He didn’t want to fuck this opportunity up. But he also knew that authority came naturally to him.

Their eyes were locked on each other for half a second, Alex’s incredibly steady. And then, Alex dipped his head in a nod-bow.

“Sir,” he deferred. And when the ginger man’s eyes raised to meet him once more, they looked small and vulnerable.

There was a part of Greg who knew that Alex was playing his role. There was a part of Greg who knew that no man could play it so convincingly if they didn’t already have it in them. And there was a part of Greg that loved how it made him feel. Instinctively, his back straightened, his eyebrows dipped in a slight frown, and his lips were pressed in a fine line, as though he was constantly on the edge of being displeased. 

Alex would have lied if he had said that he didn’t feel the sudden change in demeanour go straight to his groin. How long had it been since he’d found someone who checked his particular boxes, let alone someone he could _trust_ to check his particular boxes? But this was work. This _had_ to work. So he tossed his growing desire aside to examine by himself later.

“What’s on the menu tonight, Alex?”

Alex, shoulders slightly slumping forwards, dug his notepad out of his inside pocket and a pen from his breast.

“I have a list of potential clients, sir, that I thought we might look through?”

And so the evening passed in this fashion. It was cordial but businesslike. Greg eventually forgot about being careful around the other man, and Alex started dropping ‘sir’ as naturally as he was breathing air.

\---

Just as they were about to wrap up, Tim, who was on guard by the door, knocked and entered.

“Horne, Watson’s here with a package. Says he’ll only give it to you.”

Greg, who knows full well that this is all Alex and that it has nothing to do with him (well, maybe it did have to do with him, but if it did, Alex would only tell him in due time), looked away to his own notepad where he was scribbling a couple of unintelligible notes. But he quickly noticed something was amiss when the room fell silent. He glanced at Alex. The man hadn't moved. He was staring up at him expectantly like a dog to his master. And it sunk in for Greg. This was happening. They were doing this. They were committing to it, every hour, of every day, of every week, as long as they were alive. Greg appraised his assistant, aware that he was making Tim wait. 

“Go ahead, Alex.” He nodded towards the door and glanced back down in disinterest.

“Thank you, sir,” Alex answered before sliding off and following his friend.

Greg glanced back after them once they had both turned around. But Tim sensed this and looked over his shoulder. The men’s gazes crossed. Tim’s told Greg that he had Alex’s back before Greg’s if it came down to it, and Greg’s told Tim that he had power over Alex that his friend didn’t, and they both knew it.

There was a bit of whispering, the door opening and closing a couple of times, discreet shuffling. Eventually, Alex came back _sans_ package. Greg didn’t question. But watching Alex shift on his journey from the door to his chair from being a confident, powerful, disarming man, to a hunched, scared, little creature, gave Greg a sudden unexpected understanding.

“Alex,” he said. There was an edge of hardness to his voice. _Good_.

Alex froze where he was, a couple of meters from the chairs. A shiver ran down his spine.

“Come here.” He beckoned the smaller man with his index.

Greg spread his legs. He was rewarded with a look of surprise on Alex’s face. His eyes met his own with a mix of fear and desire. Greg gave a crooked grin.

“You _do_ want it to be a sexual thing.” He crooned mockingly.

“Sir, I—”

“Shut up Alex.”

Alex’s mouth shut with an audible click.

“I’m not going to have someone I barely know suck my cock,” Greg said warily. “But maybe one day,” he promised darkly.

His assistant visibly licked his lips despite himself.

“However… I have the feeling that you’re looking for a little more from me. Aren’t you? You dirty little thing.”

Alex shuddered. 

“Knees.” Greg snapped and pointed between his legs.

Alex gave a small hesitant look but obliged after seeing the Taskmaster’s steely eyes. The Taskmaster grabbed Alex by the collar and pulled him towards him roughly, bringing their faces mere inches from each other. They both knew that the man could have grabbed Greg, flipped him over and stabbed him to death if he had wanted to. But he hadn’t. Alex went limp. A cruel smile graced the Taskmaster’s face.

“ _I own you_ now.”

Somewhere in the back of Alex’s head, alarm bells were ringing. Fear that one day Greg would take everything he’d done for granted and then throw him away. That one day, Greg would no longer exist. That he’d be the Taskmaster in all his glory. And Alex Horne would no longer exist. He’d only be the assistant. Seen as powerless enough to remove. To cut the strings off the puppet. _That_ part of him was shouting to stab the other man in the ribs. But he kept reminding himself that he wanted this. He made this happen. This is what he had _asked_ for. _To be owned_. And so he had forced his limbs to go limp in the grasp of the man he’d asked so sit to his right. He submitted to the violence. Because despite everything, it was also what he wanted.

“I want you to say it, Alex,” Greg growled. “Who owns you?”

“You do sir.” Alex blushed.

“And who am I?”

“The Taskmaster sir.” Alex gained a little confidence at the second question.

“And why are you here?”

“To serve you, sir.”

“And can you make a nice sentence out of it for me?”

Alex had to swallow. “Taskmaster, I am owned by you, and here to serve.”

“Good boy.”

Alex whimpered.

“And good boys should get rewards, don’t you think?”

Alex kept his eyes lowered. It wouldn’t do to show how aroused he felt.

“Answer me, Alex.”

“Whatever you deem fit, sir.” Again, giving power to the other man.

“Hmmm, how about we make sure people know that you are mine? Don’t you think that would help with this whole endeavour?”

Alex’s eyes went wide then, not sure what the Taskmaster meant by that. The Taskmaster just smiled and placed a hand on Alex’s exposed neck.

“This ok Alex?” Greg, not the Taskmaster but Greg, asked.

Alex swallowed and nodded. 

Greg laughed a bit, “I’ll have you know that I like it rough. And I get the impression that you do too.”

And Alex fully gave up on being careful. “Please sir,” he quasi begged.

“Alright then Little Alex.”

And Greg squeezed around Alex’s windpipes until he was sure they were going to bruise while being careful he didn’t choke the man to death. Alex’s head buzzed at the lack of air. His eyes felt heavy with the mixture of pain, and pleasure of finally being able to indulge in his warped fantasies. Eventually, he did run out of air, his lashes fluttered, his gaze looking up into the older man’s grey one’s trying to communicate he was close to passing out.

Greg understood and gave a last squeeze before letting go, making sure he still held Alex up so that he wouldn’t slump to the ground.

“ _Mine_ ,” he growled.

Alex gasped and then gulped air into his lungs, coughing as he did.

Greg understood for a split second that this was how Alex needed him the most. The glassy eyes of the man at his feet were devoid of all the weight they had held up until now. He was somewhere else entirely, and he was more relaxed or at peace than he had been in days. If Alex Horne was going to give him the career that he so desperately needed, then he could repay Alex this little favour. It was right up his alley anyway.


End file.
